


Butterscotch Pudding

by portmanteaux



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Blaine is a cat person, Cats, M/M, Meet-Cute, neighbors!klaine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-21
Updated: 2016-09-21
Packaged: 2018-08-16 10:44:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8099161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/portmanteaux/pseuds/portmanteaux
Summary: When his new neighbor starts talking to himself like a weirdo, Kurt is glad he's about to move out of the building. Just a silly little fic.





	

_“I think we agree more than we disagree. I’m glad we managed to find common ground.”_

Kurt rolled his eyes. Luckily he didn’t plan to stay in this apartment for much longer. It was what he could afford when he’d moved in almost two years ago, but he’d outgrown it. It was pitifully small with barely any light and paper-thin walls. But then he’d been promoted at Vogue—still part time, but much better pay—and he’d been cast in his first real role (way off-Broadway, but that didn’t matter) and saved up some money. He could finally afford a better place. 

_“Just where did you hear that?”_ he heard through the wall. _“I think your sources are suspect at best.”_

The first time he’d heard his new neighbor’s voice through the wall and no second voice answering him, he hadn’t thought anything of it—the guy was on the phone. But as time went on, all of the guy’s conversations seemed to be one-sided, even when he used a “honey” or a “sweetie” or a “little butterscotch pudding,” which was a term of endearment Kurt was glad he’d never been on the other end of. Kurt started to get the impression the guy might actually be unhinged and talking to an imaginary friend or a ghost or something. It was too bad, since his taste in music was pretty good.

_“Don’t sass me. I don’t want this to be punitive, but I can only work with what you give me.”_

The guy’s mailbox said “BAnderson,” and that’s all Kurt knew about him, really. 

One Sunday morning, Kurt was sitting at his tiny breakfast nook of a dinner table catching up on his webcomics when he heard a scratching at his front door. It was an odd sound he’d never heard before, and it stopped for a few seconds and then started right back up again. 

He saw nothing through the peephole, and when he opened the door a small, furry, orangish blob slipped past him and into his apartment. Kurt let out a surprised shriek and jumped back, throwing the door wide open. 

“Butterscotch!” a familiar voice yelled from the hallway. The voice was quite a bit clearer and louder than it usually was, but there was no mistaking—it was his weird neighbor. Kurt turned back to the door and froze in place.

Kurt really hadn’t given much thought to what Banderson might look like. His mind might have conjured a picture of the handsome, if harried, man in front of him for quite a different purpose, but never as the visage of the disembodied voice that floated through his walls at all times of day. He was on the short side and his curly black hair seemed a little out of control, but the tank top he was wearing did something great for his shoulders and his chest and his _biceps_ —

“I’m so sorry!” the man said, jarring Kurt out of his reverie. “I live next door”—he gestured at his own apartment down the hall—“and I think my cat just snuck into your apartment.”

“Your cat,” Kurt repeated slowly. “You have a cat!”

Handsome Neighbor furrowed his— _triangular, how cute_ —eyebrows and spoke again more slowly. “Yes. Her name is Butterscotch. She staged a prison break just now.”

“Oh. Yeah, it came in when I opened my door,” Kurt said dumbly, looking behind him at the inside of his apartment. _Get it together, Hummel._

“I’m so sorry,” he repeated earnestly. “Would you mind if I just come in and grab her?”

“No, of course,” Kurt said, stepping out of the doorway and letting him inside. 

“Oh, I’m Blaine, by the way,” he said, holding out a hand to shake.

“Kurt,” Kurt replied, holding out his own hand and letting it be squeezed gently. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“You too,” Blaine said with a smile. He looked around Kurt’s apartment and put his hands on his hips. “Okay. If I were a kitty named Butterscotch, where would I be hiding?” 

“It’s not like there are many options in this shoebox apartment.”

“You’d be surprised,” Blaine murmured. “She manages to cram into the tiniest spaces.” Blaine crouched down on Kurt’s living room floor, peeking under his couch and chair. Kurt resolutely did not look at his ass as his jeans tightened across it. He stood back up and Kurt followed him through the apartment, keeping an eye out for the furry blur he’d glimpsed earlier. 

“If you don't come back you’ll never get to wear your new Halloween costume,” Blaine was explaining to the air as he poked his head into the bathroom. “And you’re certainly not going to get any treats today for ruining Kurt’s morning like this.”

Kurt giggled. He couldn’t help it. This adorable man had been having one-sided conversations with a kitten this whole time, and Kurt had just chalked him up to crazy New York life and written him off completely. “Oh, don’t worry about me,” he said. “This is more entertaining than anything I had planned.”

“Ah. Yeah. Sorry, I talk to my cat a lot,” Blaine said. “I was going to have a roommate when I moved to New York—my friend, Sam—but a month before we moved he got a modeling gig and moved to the west coast instead. So I had to find a smaller place by myself, and since I don’t know anybody in the city…” he trailed off. “Wow, I really sound pathetic, don’t I?” he laughed.

“Hey, if talking to your cat and asking for her advice on your wardrobe gets you through the day, then who am I to judge?”

Blaine stopped in the middle of Kurt’s hallway and stared at him, and Kurt realized what he’d said. “Oh. Did I mention how thin the walls are here?” Kurt amended. 

Blaine covered his face with both hands. “Oh my god. I hear you sing sometimes—you sound amazing, by the way—but I didn’t—you hear me having full conversations with my cat? You must think I’m deranged.”

“No, it’s adorable. And thank you. For complimenting my voice, I mean.”

Blaine, fully blushing now, peeked at Kurt through his fingers. “Okay. I’ll just get her and leave and never bother you again now.”

“No, hey, I mean it!” Kurt said. “Most people just baby talk to their pets or whatever, but you hold some pretty substantial discussions.”

Blaine dropped his hands from his face and grimaced. “I teach little kids, and I’ve gotten in the habit of avoiding baby-talk. Plus she’s a really vocal cat—do you hear her, too, or just me?”

“I didn't know you had a cat before today,” Kurt replied. He realized as he said it that he was only making things worse. 

“Wow, so I sound truly insane.”

“I…wasn’t ruling out the possibility,” Kurt admitted. 

“Anyway, she has all these different kinds of meows she uses all the time, and it’s so cute—you’ll probably hear it whenever we find her—it’s like she’s talking to me. So I started pretending I could understand what she was saying.”

“And that she was making ‘very reasonable, seasoned arguments’?” Kurt teased, quoting something he’d heard yesterday back at Blaine. 

Blaine laughed, and Kurt thought it was the best sound he’d heard from his neighbor yet. “Exactly.”

The door to Kurt’s bedroom was cracked just a bit, and Blaine gestured toward it. “Do you mind?”

“Oh. No, go ahead,” he said awkwardly, suddenly very aware that this man was a stranger and Kurt was about to show him to his bedroom. At least he’d made his bed this morning. Blaine opened the door and stepped inside slowly. 

“Butterscotch?” he called gently. A tiny squeaky cry in response made Kurt chuckle. “See?” Blaine grinned at him. “Not crazy.”

“My apologies,” Kurt replied, shutting the door behind them so the kitten couldn’t escape. 

They found Butterscotch in Kurt’s closet, sitting in one of his loafers. “She has fantastic taste,” Kurt said, smiling down at the tableau before them. “Wait, let me take a picture before you get her out.”

Blaine smiled and waved at the cat to get her attention while Kurt snapped a picture with his phone. Blaine scooped her up in his arms, and she kept meowing at him. “I know, sweetheart,” he said after a particularly loud yowl. “You’ve had an adventure, and I don’t blame you for wanting to go home.”

Kurt smiled and pet Butterscotch while Blaine held her. Her fur was soft, but Kurt was distracted by being able to feel the heat of Blaine’s body. He accidentally brushed Blaine’s arm and paused before pulling his hand away. 

“I think she likes you,” Blaine said with a smile. 

“I’m not much of a cat person, but even I have to admit she’s pretty cute.”

“She really is. Hey, uh, would you send me that picture you took? If you don’t mind, that is.”

“No, of course,” Kurt replied. Blaine told him his phone number and Kurt texted him the picture.

“And if I ever get too loud over there, feel free to let me know.”

“Okay. Same to you.”

“Sorry again to interrupt your morning.”

“Oh, it’s no problem. It was nice to meet you, Blaine.”

“You too, Kurt.”

\-----------------------------------------------

It was a couple of days later when Kurt found himself knocking on Blaine’s door with a plate of cookies in his other hand. The door opened a few seconds later, and Kurt’s stomach did a disturbing little swoop when Blaine’s face lit up at him. “Kurt! Hi!”

“Hi, Blaine.”

“Come on in.”

Blaine’s apartment was the same layout as Kurt’s except a mirror image. A soft _mrrow!_ at his feet announced the arrival of Butterscotch. “Well hello there, miss,” Kurt said to the cat, “I trust you’ve had a nice day.” He smiled at Blaine and held out the plate of cookies. “These are for you. They’re oatmeal chocolate chip.”

“Oh, wow, thanks!” Blaine said, taking the plate from him. “They look amazing.”

“I notice you and Butterscotch haven’t been having your usual conversations,” Kurt said. “And I feel bad for being the reason you stopped, especially since you said you don’t know many people in New York. So I figured maybe I could be someone you know in New York and it would take some of the conversational pressure off of Butterscotch here.”

Blaine smiled at him. “I’d really like that. Can I get you something to drink? I have beer and wine, or we could do cookies and milk?”

“Cookies and milk sounds fantastic.”

\-----------------------------------------------

“I’m sad you’re moving out,” Blaine said a few weeks later.

“I know,” Kurt said with a pout. “But I’m not sad to say goodbye to my tiny apartment. It’ll be nice to have more closet space.”

Blaine smiled. “I’d imagine so.”

“And I’m not moving that far.”

“I know.”

“It just means we’ll have to make more of an effort to see each other.”

“Right.”

“And, um, to that end, I was wondering if you’d have dinner with me this weekend after I get settled into the new place.”

“Dinner? Um, sure, that sounds good.”

“Like a…dinner date.”

“You want to go on a date with me?”

Kurt panicked and started talking. “I might have completely misinterpreted, and if so I’ll just move away and you never have to see me again, but I like you, and I’m so glad you talk to your cat like a weirdo because otherwise I never would have met you, and _oh my god_ you are gay, right, because I’ve made that mistake before—”

Suddenly Blaine’s lips were on his, which made him stop talking but which also was very confusing. For a hysterical moment Kurt wondered if he’d tripped and fallen on Blaine lips-first, but it seemed unlikely. Blaine’s soft, warm lips were moving gently against his, and he had to get himself together. He hooked an arm around Blaine’s neck and kissed him back. Too soon, they were pulling apart, and Kurt could feel his cheeks burning. 

“First of all, I’m _super gay_ , Kurt,” Blaine said, holding up one finger. “Second of all, I was _surprised_ you wanted to go on a date with your sad neighbor who talks to his cat because have you even seen yourself? Third, of course I want to go on a date with you.”

“The counting was helpful, thank you for that,” Kurt replied, trying to keep calm so he didn’t just launch himself at Blaine again. “Okay, well, then, that’s settled.” He stood up and moved toward the door awkwardly. 

“Right,” Blaine agreed, following him to the door. “So you’ll text me?”

“Yes, I will. Goodnight, Blaine.”

“Goodnight, Kurt.”

They kissed goodnight at Blaine’s door—this time Kurt kissed Blaine so there was no mistaking what was happening on his end—and Kurt slipped back inside his apartment where everything was packed up and disassembled, including his bed, and he was sleeping on the couch for his final night there.

\-----------------------------------------------

Kurt woke up slowly to a soft voice murmuring nearby as he rose into consciousness. 

“I know you’re excited that Kurt’s here, but if you come on too strong you might scare him away. You gotta play it cool.” A tiny meow in response woke Kurt up the rest of the way with a grin on his face. He shifted and rolled toward the voice and cracked an eye open to find Blaine sitting up and holding Butterscotch in his lap.

“Is that you ‘playing it cool’?” he wondered with a smile.

Blaine smiled back at him. “Yeah, how am I doing?”

“Just perfect,” Kurt answered. Blaine leaned down and caught his lips in a soft kiss, letting Butterscotch free in the process.

“She wanted to lick your face until you woke up, but I thought you might never forgive me if I let her do that.”

“You’d probably be right.” 

“Just the other day you were extolling the virtues of exfoliation,” Blaine said with a sidelong look.

“Oddly enough, cat saliva isn’t my favorite skincare product,” Kurt shot back.

Blaine gave a little shrug. “Breakfast?”

“Yes, please.”

They got dressed—Kurt put on his jeans from the night before and an old, soft Dalton t-shirt of Blaine’s—and cooked together in Blaine’s tiny kitchen. 

_Mew!_ Butterscotch said. 

“I can see how you’d feel that way, but I think you’re missing the forest for the trees,” Kurt replied as he flipped a pancake.

Blaine kissed his temple and handed him a plate. 

\-----------------------------------------------

Kurt unlocked the door to the apartment and shuffled inside, nearly dropping the takeout bag of Thai food he was juggling alongside his portfolio and his laptop bag. As he set the bags down on the kitchen counter and dropped his keys in their designated dish, he heard Blaine’s faint voice from two rooms away. 

_“I really admire your perseverance,”_ Blaine was saying. _“You really haven’t let anything get you down today, and I totally respect that.”_

With a smile, Kurt slipped into the nursery and slid his arms around Blaine, peeking over his shoulder at their daughter, cooing at him while he finished snapping her onesie back together. 

Madeleine gave a giggle and a grunt and kicked her little feet up into the air. 

“You’re right, that’s Daddy!” Blaine said softly, picking her up and turning to kiss Kurt’s cheek. 

“Did you and Daddy have a fun day?” Kurt asked, addressing the question to Madeleine as Blaine passed her over to him. She made some nonsense noises and tried to shove her tiny fist into her mouth. “Wow, you did all of that? I’m so sorry I missed it!” and kissed her forehead. Kurt smiled up at Blaine. “I’m sorry I’m late.”

“You’re just in time. She’s all ready for bed.” 

“Your baby talk is even better than your cat talk,” Kurt murmured as Madeleine’s eyes started to droop. 

“She really killed it today. She laughed at a dog in the park, and before that she ate all her pureed carrots.”

Kurt laid her down in her crib and wrapped his arms around Blaine. “Let’s eat.”


End file.
